Chapter XXI: Preface: Sidenote: A.D. 1072. PREFACE TO BOOK IV (2)

Certainly many of their regulations seem severe, and more particularly these: they wear nothing made with furs or linen, nor even that finely spun linen garment, which we call Staminium;[363] neither breeches, unless when sent on a journey, which at their return they wash and restore. They have two tunics with cowls, but no additional garment in winter, though, if they think fit, in summer they may lighten their garb. They sleep clad and girded, and never after matins return to their beds: but they so order the time of matins that it shall be light ere the lauds[364] begin; so intent are they on their rule, that they think no jot or tittle of it should be disregarded. Directly after these hymns they sing the prime, after which they go out to work for stated hours. They complete whatever labour or service they have to perform by day without any other light. No one is ever absent from the daily services, or from complines, except the sick. The cellarer and hospitaller, after complines, wait upon the guests, yet observing the strictest silence. The abbat allows himself no indulgence beyond the others,--every where present,--every where attending to his flock; except that he does not eat with the rest, because his table is with the strangers and the poor. Nevertheless, be he where he may, he is equally sparing of food and of speech; for never more than two dishes are served either to him or to his company; lard and meat never but to the sick. From the Ides of September till Easter, through regard for whatever festival, they do not take more than one meal a day, except on Sunday. They never leave the cloister but for the purpose of labour, nor do they ever speak, either there or elsewhere, save only to the abbat or prior. They pay unwearied attention to the canonical[365] services, making no addition to them except the vigil for the defunct. They use in their divine service the Ambrosian chants[366] and hymns, as far as they were able to learn them at Milan. While they bestow care on the stranger and the sick, they inflict intolerable mortifications on their own bodies, for the health of their souls.

The abbat, at first, both encountered these privations with much alacrity himself, and compelled the rest to do the same. In process of time, however, the man repented;[367] he had been delicately brought up, and could not well bear such continued scantiness of diet. The monks, whom he had left at Molesmes, getting scent of this disposition, either by messages or letters, for it is uncertain which, drew him back to the monastery, by his obedience to the pope, for such was their pretext: compelling him to a measure to which he was already extremely well-disposed. For, as if wearied out by the pertinacity of their entreaties, he left the narrow confines of poverty, and resought his former magnificence. All followed him from Citeaux, who had gone thither with him, except eight. These, few in number but great in virtue, appointed Alberic, one of their party, abbat, and Stephen prior. The former not surviving more than eight years was, at the will of heaven, happily called away. Then, doubtless by God’s appointment, Stephen though absent was elected abbat; the original contriver of the whole scheme; the especial and celebrated ornament of our times. Sixteen abbeys which he has already completed, and seven which he has begun, are sufficient testimonies of his abundant merit. Thus, by the resounding trumpet of God, he directs the people around him, both by word and deed, to heaven; acting fully up to his own precepts; affable in speech, pleasant in look, and with a mind always rejoicing in the Lord. Hence, openly, that noble joy of countenance; hence, secretly, that compunction, coming from above; because, despising this state of a sojourner, he constantly desires to be in a place of rest. For these causes he is beloved by all; “For God graciously imparts to the minds of other men a love for that man whom he loves.” Wherefore the inhabitant of that country esteems himself happy if, through his hands, he can transmit his wealth to God. He receives much, indeed, but expending little on his own wants, or those of his flock, he distributes the rest to the poor, or employs it immediately on the building of monasteries; for the purse of Stephen is the public treasury of the indigent. A proof of his abstinence is that you see nothing there, as in other monasteries, flaming with gold, blazing with jewels, or glittering with silver. For as a Gentile says, “Of what use is gold to a saint?” We think it not enough in our holy vases, unless the ponderous metal be eclipsed by precious stones; by the flame of the topaz, the violet of the amethyst, and the green shade of the emerald: unless the sacerdotal robes wanton with gold; and unless the walls glisten with various coloured paintings, and throw the reflexion of the sun’s rays upon the ceiling. These men, however, placing those things which mortals foolishly esteem the first, only in a secondary point of view, give all their diligence to improve their morals, and love pure minds, more than glittering vestments; knowing that the best remuneration for doing well, is to enjoy a clear conscience. Moreover, if at any time the laudable kindness of the abbat either desires, or feigns a desire, to modify aught from the strict letter of the rule, they are ready to oppose such indulgence, saying, that they have no long time to live, nor shall they continue to exist so long as they have already done; that they hope to remain stedfast in their purpose to the end, and to be an example to their successors, who will transgress if they should give way. And, indeed, through human weakness, the perpetual law of which is that nothing attained, even by the greatest labour, can long remain unchanged, it will be so. But to comprise, briefly, all things which are or can be said of them,--the Cistertian monks at the present day are a model for all monks, a mirror for the diligent, a spur to the indolent.

[Sidenote: [A.D. 1100.] HERBERT, BISHOP OF NORWICH.]

At this time three sees in England were transferred from their ancient situations; Wells to Bath, by John; Chester to Coventry, by Robert; Thetford to Norwich, by Herbert; all through greater ambition, than ought to have influenced men of such eminence. Finally, to speak of the last first: Herbert, from his skill in adulation, surnamed Losinga,[368] was first abbat of Ramsey, and then purchased the bishopric of Thetford, while his father, Robert, surnamed as himself, was intruded on the abbey of Winchester. This man, then, was the great source of simony in England; having craftily procured by means of his wealth, both an abbey and a bishopric. For he hood-winked the king’s solicitude for the church by his money, and whispered great promises to secure the favour of the nobility: whence a poet of those times admirably observes,

“A monster in the church from Losing rose,
Base Simon’s sect, the canons to oppose.
Peter, thou’rt slow; see Simon soars on high;
If present, soon thou’d’st hurl him from the sky.[369]
Oh grief, the church is let to sordid hire,
The son a bishop, abbat is the sire.
All may be hoped from gold’s prevailing sway,
Which governs all things; gives and takes away;
Makes bishops, abbats, basely in a day.”

Future repentance, however, atoned for the errors of his youth: he went to Rome, when he was of a more serious age, and there resigning the staff and ring which he had acquired by simony, had them restored through the indulgence of that most merciful see; for the Romans regard it both as more holy and more fitting, that the dues from each church should rather come into their own purse, than be subservient to the use of any king whatever. Herbert thus returning home, removed the episcopal see, which had formerly been at Helmham, and was then at Thetford, to a town, celebrated for its trade and populousness, called Norwich. Here he settled a congregation of monks, famous for their numbers and their morals; purchasing everything for them out of his private fortune. For, having an eye to the probable complaints of his successors, he gave none of the episcopal lands to the monastery, lest they should deprive the servants of God of their subsistence, if they found any thing given to them which pertained to their see. At Thetford, too, he settled Clugniac monks, because the members of that order, dispersed throughout the world, are rich in worldly possessions, and of distinguished piety towards God. Thus, by the great and extensive merit of his virtues, he shrouded the multitude of his former failings; and by his abundant eloquence and learning, as well as by his knowledge in secular affairs, he became worthy even of the Roman pontificate. Herbert thus changed, as Lucan observes of Curio, became the changer and mover of all things; and, as in the times of this king, he had been a pleader in behalf of simony, so was he, afterwards, its most strenuous opposer; nor did he suffer that to be done by others, which he lamented he had ever himself done through the presumption of juvenile ardour: ever having in his mouth, as they relate, the saying of St. Jerome, “We have erred when young; let us amend now we are old.” Finally, who can sufficiently extol his conduct, who, though not a very rich bishop, yet built so noble a monastery; in which nothing appears defective, either in the beauty of the lofty edifice, the elegance of its ornaments, or in the piety and universal charity of its monks. These things soothed him with joyful hope while he lived, and when dead, if repentance be not in vain, conducted him to heaven.[370]

John was bishop of Wells; a native of Touraine, and an approved physician, by practice, rather than education. On the death of the abbat of Bath, he easily obtained the abbey from the king, both because all things at court were exposed to sale, and his covetousness seemed palliated by some degree of reason, that so famed a city might be still more celebrated, by becoming the see of a bishop. He at first began to exercise his severity against the monks, because they were dull, and in his estimation, barbarians; taking away all the lands ministering to their subsistence, and furnishing them with but scanty provision by his lay dependants. In process of time, however, when new monks had been admitted, he conducted himself with more mildness; and gave a small portion of land to the prior, by which he might, in some measure, support himself and his inmates. And although he had begun austerely, yet many things were there by him both nobly begun and completed, in decorations and in books; and more especially, in a selection of monks, equally notable for their learning and kind offices. But still he could not, even at his death, be softened far enough totally to exonerate the lands from bondage; leaving, in this respect, an example not to be followed by his successors.

There was in the diocese of Chester, a monastery, called Coventry, which, as I have before related, the most noble earl Leofric, with his lady Godiva, had built; so splendid for its gold and silver, that the very walls of the church seemed too scanty to receive the treasures, to the great astonishment of the beholders. This, Robert bishop of the diocese eagerly seized on, in a manner by no means episcopal; stealing from the very treasures of the church wherewith he might fill the hand of the king, beguile the vigilance of the pope, and gratify the covetousness of the Romans. Continuing there many years, he gave no proof of worth whatever: for, so far from rescuing the nodding roofs from ruin, he wasted the sacred treasures, and became guilty of peculation; and a bishop might have been convicted of illegal exactions, had an accuser been at hand. He fed the monks on miserable fare, made no attempts to excite in them a love for their profession, and suffered them to reach only a very common degree of learning; lest he should make them delicate by sumptuous living, or strictness of rule and depth of learning should spirit them up to oppose him. Contented therefore with rustic fare, and humble literary attainments, they deemed it enough, if they could only live in peace. Moreover, at his death, paying little attention to the dictates of the canons, by which it is enacted, that bishops ought to be buried in their cathedrals, he commanded himself to be interred, not at Chester, but at Coventry; leaving to his successors by such a decision, the task, not of claiming what was not due to them, but as it were, of vindicating their proper right.

[Sidenote: [A.D. 1100.] JOSCELYN.]

Here, while speaking of the times of William, I should be induced to relate the translation of the most excellent Augustine, the apostle of the English and of his companions, had not the talents of the learned Joscelyn, anticipated me:[371] of Joscelyn, who being a monk of St. Bertin, formerly came to England with Herman bishop of Salisbury, skilled equally in literature and music. For a considerable time he visited the cathedrals and abbeys, and left proofs of uncommon learning in many places; he was second to none after Bede in the celebration of the English saints; next to Osberne[372] too, he bore away the palm in music. Moreover he wrote innumerable lives of modern saints, and restored, in an elegant manner, such of those of the ancients as had been lost through the confusion of the times, or had been carelessly edited. He also so exquisitely wrought the process of this translation, that he may be said to have realized it to the present race, and given a view of it to posterity. Happy that tongue, which ministered to so many saints! happy that voice, which poured forth such melody! more especially as in his life, his probity equalled his learning. But, as I have hitherto recorded disgraceful transactions of certain bishops, I will introduce others of different lives and dispositions, who were in being at the same time; that our age may not be said to have grown so negligent as not to produce one single saint. Such as are desirous, may find this promise completed in a subsequent book, after the narrative of king Henry’s transactions.

CHAP. II.

_The Expedition to Jerusalem._ [A.D. 1095-1105.]

I shall now describe the expedition to Jerusalem, relating in my own words what was seen and endured by others. Besides too, as opportunity offers, I shall select from ancient writers, accounts of the situation and riches of Constantinople, Antioch, and Jerusalem; in order that he who is unacquainted with these matters, and meets with this work, may have something to communicate to others. But for such a relation there needs a more fervent spirit, in order to complete effectually, what I begin with such pleasure. Invoking, therefore, the Divinity, as is usual, I begin as follows.

In the year of the incarnation 1095, pope Urban the second, who then filled the papal throne, passing the Alps, came into France. The ostensible cause of his journey, was, that, being driven from home by the violence of Guibert, he might prevail on the churches on this side of the mountains to acknowledge him. His more secret intention was not so well known; this was, by Boamund’s advice, to excite almost the whole of Europe to undertake an expedition into Asia; that in such a general commotion of all countries, auxiliaries might easily be engaged, by whose means both Urban might obtain Rome; and Boamund, Illyria and Macedonia. For Guiscard, his father, had conquered those countries from Alexius, and also all the territory extending from Durazzo to Thessalonica; wherefore Boamund claimed them as his due, since he obtained not the inheritance of Apulia, which his father had given to his younger son, Roger. Still nevertheless, whatever might be the cause of Urban’s journey, it turned out of great and singular advantage to the Christian world. A council, therefore, was assembled at Clermont,[373] which is the most noted city of Auvergne. The number of bishops and abbats was three hundred and ten. Here at first, during several days, a long discussion was carried on concerning the catholic faith, and the establishing peace among contending parties.[374] For, in addition to those crimes in which every one indulged, all, on this side of the Alps, had arrived at such a calamitous state, as to take each other captive on little or no pretence; nor were they suffered to go free, unless ransomed at an enormous price. Again too, the snake of simony had so reared her slippery crest, and cherished, with poisonous warmth, her deadly eggs, that the whole world became infected with her mortal hissing, and tainted the honours of the church. At that time, I will not say bishops to their sees merely, but none aspired even to any ecclesiastical degree, except by the influence of money. Then too, many persons putting away their lawful wives, procured divorces, and invaded the marriage-couch of others. Wherefore, as in both these cases, there was a mixed multitude of offenders, the names of some powerful persons were singled out for punishment. Not to be tedious, I will subjoin the result of the whole council, abbreviating some parts, in my own language.

[Sidenote: [A.D. 1095.] COUNCIL OF CLERMONT.]

In a council at Clermont, in the presence of pope Urban, these articles were enacted. “That the catholic church shall be pure in faith; free from all servitude: that bishops, or abbats, or clergy of any rank, shall receive no ecclesiastical dignity from the hand of princes, or of any of the laity: that clergymen shall not hold prebends in two churches or cities: that no one shall be bishop and abbat at the same time: that ecclesiastical dignities shall be bought and sold by no one: that no person in holy orders shall be guilty of carnal intercourse: that such as not knowing the canonical prohibition had purchased canonries, should be pardoned: but that they should be taken from such as knew they possessed them by their own purchase, or that of their parents: that no layman from Ash-Wednesday, no clergyman from Quadragesima, to Easter, shall eat flesh: that, at all times, the first fast of the Ember Weeks, should be in the first week of Lent: that orders should be conferred, at all times, on the evening of Saturday, or on a Sunday, continuing fasting:[375] that on Easter-eve, service should not be celebrated till after the ninth hour: that the second fast should be observed in the week of Pentecost: that from our Lord’s Advent, to the octave of the Epiphany; from Septuagesima to the octaves of Easter; from the first day of the Rogations to the octaves of Pentecost; and from the fourth day of the week at sunset, at all times, to the second day in the following week at sunrise, the Truce of God be observed:[376] that whoever laid violent hands on a bishop should be excommunicated; that whoever laid violent hands on clergymen or their servants should be accursed: that whoever seized the goods of bishops or clergymen at their deaths, should be accursed: that whoever married a relation, even in the sixth degree of consanguinity, should be accursed: that none should be chosen bishop, except a priest, deacon, or subdeacon who was of noble descent, unless under pressing necessity, and licence from the pope: that the sons of priests and concubines should not be advanced to the priesthood, unless they first made their vow: that whosoever fled to the church, or the cross, should, being insured from loss of limb, be delivered up to justice; or if innocent, be released: that every church should enjoy its own tithes, nor pass them away to another: that laymen should neither buy nor sell tithes; that no fee should be demanded for the burial of the dead. In this council the pope excommunicated Philip, king of France, and all who called him king or lord, and obeyed or spoke to him, unless for the purpose of correcting him: in like manner too his accursed consort, and all who called her queen or lady, till they so far reformed as to separate from each other: and also Guibert of Ravenna, who calls himself pope: and Henry, emperor of Germany, who supports him.”

Afterwards, a clear and forcible discourse, such as should come from a priest, was addressed to the people, on the subject of an expedition of the Christians, against the Turks. This I have thought fit to transmit to posterity, as I have learned it from those who were present, preserving its sense unimpaired. For who can preserve the force of that eloquence? We shall be fortunate, if, treading an adjacent path, we come even by a circuitous route to its meaning.

[Sidenote: [A.D. 1095.] POPE URBAN’S SPEECH.]

“You recollect,”[377] said he, “my dearest brethren, many things which have been decreed for you, at this time; some matters, in our council, commanded; others inhibited. A rude and confused chaos of crimes required the deliberation of many days; an inveterate malady demanded a sharp remedy. For while we give unbounded scope to our clemency, our papal office finds numberless matters to proscribe; none to spare. But it has hitherto arisen from human frailty, that you have erred, and that, deceived by the speciousness of vice, you have exasperated the long suffering of God, by too lightly regarding his forbearance. It has arisen too from human wantonness, that, disregarding lawful wedlock, you have not duly considered the heinousness of adultery. From too great covetousness also, it has arisen, that, as opportunity offered, making captive your brethren, bought by the same great price, you have outrageously extorted from them their wealth. To you, however, now suffering this perilous shipwreck of sin, a secure haven of rest is offered, unless you neglect it. A station of perpetual safety will be awarded you, for the exertion of a trifling labour against the Turks. Compare, now, the labours which you underwent in the practice of wickedness, and those which you will encounter in the undertaking I advise. The intention of committing adultery, or murder, begets many fears; for, as Soloman says, ‘There is nothing more timid than guilt:’ many labours; for what is more toilsome than wickedness? But, ‘He who walks uprightly, walks securely.’ Of these labours, of these fears, the end was sin; the wages of sin is death; the death of sinners is most dreadful. Now the same labours and apprehensions are required from you, for a better consideration. The cause of these labours, will be charity; if thus warned by the command of God, you lay down your lives for the brethren: the wages of charity will be the grace of God; the grace of God is followed by eternal life. Go then prosperously: Go, then, with confidence, to attack the enemies of God. For they long since, oh sad reproach to Christians! have seized Syria, Armenia, and lastly, all Asia Minor, the provinces of which are Bithynia, Phrygia, Galatia, Lydia, Caria, Pamphylia, Isauria, Lycia, Cilicia; and, now they insolently domineer over Illyricum, and all the hither countries, even to the sea which is called the Straits of St. George. Nay, they usurp even the sepulchre of our Lord, that singular assurance of our faith; and sell to our pilgrims admissions to that city, which ought, had they a trace of their ancient courage left, to be open to Christians only. This alone might be enough to cloud our brows; but now, who except the most abandoned, or the most envious of Christian reputation, can endure that we do not divide the world equally with them? They inhabit Asia, the third portion of the world, as their native soil, which was justly esteemed by our ancestors equal, by the extent of its tracts and greatness of its provinces, to the two remaining parts. There, formerly, sprang up the first germs of our faith; there, all the apostles, except two, consecrated their deaths; there, at the present day, the Christians, if any survive, sustaining life by a wretched kind of agriculture, pay these miscreants tribute, and even with stifled sighs, long for the participation of your liberty, since they have lost their own. They hold Africa also, another quarter of the world, already possessed by their arms for more than two hundred years; which on this account I pronounce derogatory to Christian honour, because that country was anciently the nurse of celebrated geniuses, who, by their divine writings, will mock the rust of antiquity as long as there shall be a person who can relish Roman literature:[378] the learned know the truth of what I say. Europe, the third portion of the world remains; of which, how small a part do we Christians inhabit? for who can call all those barbarians who dwell in remote islands of the Frozen Ocean, Christians, since they live after a savage manner? Even this small portion of the world, belonging to us, is oppressed by the Turks and Saracens. Thus for three hundred years, Spain and the Balearic isles have been subjugated to them, and the possession of the remainder is eagerly anticipated by feeble men, who, not having courage to engage in close encounter, love a flying mode of warfare. For the Turk never ventures upon close fight; but, when driven from his station, bends his bow at a distance, and trusts the winds with his meditated wound; and as he has poisoned arrows, venom, and not valour, inflicts the death on the man he strikes. Whatever he effects, then, I attribute to fortune, not to courage, because he wars by flight, and by poison. It is apparent too, that every race, born in that region, being scorched with the intense heat of the sun, abounds more in reflexion, than in blood; and, therefore, they avoid coming to close quarters, because they are aware how little blood they possess. Whereas the people who are born amid the polar frosts, and distant from the sun’s heat, are less cautious indeed; but, elate from their copious and luxuriant flow of blood, they fight with the greatest alacrity. You are a nation born in the more temperate regions of the world; who may be both prodigal of blood, in defiance of death and wounds; and are not deficient in prudence. For you equally preserve good conduct in camp, and are considerate in battle. Thus endued with skill and with valour, you undertake a memorable expedition. You will be extolled throughout all ages, if you rescue your brethren from danger. To those present, in God’s name, I command this; to the absent I enjoin it. Let such as are going to fight for Christianity, put the form of the cross upon their garments, that they may, outwardly, demonstrate the love arising from their inward faith; enjoying by the gift of God, and the privilege of St. Peter, absolution from all their crimes: let this in the meantime soothe the labour of their journey; satisfied that they shall obtain, after death, the advantages of a blessed martyrdom. Putting an end to your crimes then, that Christians may at least live peaceably in these countries, go, and employ in nobler warfare, that valour, and that sagacity, which you used to waste in civil broils: Go, soldiers every where renowned in fame, go, and subdue these dastardly nations. Let the noted valour of the French advance, which, accompanied by its adjoining nations, shall affright the whole world by the single terror of its name. But why do I delay you longer by detracting from the courage of the gentiles? Rather bring to your recollection the saying of God, ‘Narrow is the way which leadeth to life.’ Be it so then: the track to be followed is narrow, replete with death, and terrible with dangers; still this path will lead to your lost country. No doubt you must, ‘by much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God.’ Place then, before your imagination, if you shall be made captive, torments and chains; nay, every possible suffering that can be inflicted. Expect, for the firmness of your faith, even horrible punishments; that so, if it be necessary, you may redeem your souls at the expense of your bodies. Do you fear death? you men of exemplary courage and intrepidity. Surely human wickedness can devise nothing against you, worthy to be put in competition with heavenly glory: for the sufferings of the present time are not worthy to be compared ‘to the glory which shall be revealed in us.’ Know ye not, ‘that for men to live is wretchedness, and happiness to die?’ This doctrine, if you remember, you imbibed with your mother’s milk, through the preaching of the clergy: and this doctrine your ancestors, the martyrs, held out by example. Death sets free from its filthy prison the human soul, which then takes flight for the mansions fitted to its virtues. Death accelerates their country to the good: death cuts short the wickedness of the ungodly. By means of death, then, the soul, made free, is either soothed with joyful hope, or is punished without farther apprehension of worse. So long as it is fettered to the body, it derives from it earthly contagion; or to say more truly, is dead. For, earthly with heavenly, and divine with mortal, ill agree. The soul, indeed, even now, in its state of union with the body, is capable of great efforts; it gives life to its instrument, secretly moving and animating it to exertions almost beyond mortal nature. But when, freed from the clog which drags it to the earth, it regains its proper station, it partakes of a blessed and perfect energy, communicating after some measure with the invisibility of the divine nature. Discharging a double office, therefore, it ministers life to the body when it is present, and the cause of its change, when it departs. You must observe how pleasantly the soul wakes in the sleeping body, and, apart from the senses, sees many future events, from the principle of its relationship to the Deity. Why then do ye fear death, who love the repose of sleep, which resembles death? Surely it must be madness, through lust of a transitory life, to deny yourselves that which is eternal. Rather, my dearest brethren, should it so happen, lay down your lives for the brotherhood. Rid God’s sanctuary of the wicked: expel the robbers: bring in the pious. Let no love of relations detain you; for man’s chiefest love is towards God. Let no attachment to your native soil be an impediment; because, in different points of view, all the world is exile to the Christian, and all the world his country. Thus exile is his country, and his country exile. Let none be restrained from going by the largeness of his patrimony, for a still larger is promised him; not of such things as soothe the miserable with vain expectation, or flatter the indolent disposition with the mean advantages of wealth, but of such as are shewn by perpetual example and approved by daily experience. Yet these too are pleasant, but vain, and which, to such as despise them, produce reward a hundred-fold. These things I publish, these I command: and for their execution I fix the end of the ensuing spring. God will be gracious to those who undertake this expedition, that they may have a favourable year, both in abundance of produce, and in serenity of season. Those who may die will enter the mansions of heaven; while the living shall behold the sepulchre of the Lord. And what can be greater happiness, than for a man, in his life-time, to see those places, where the Lord of heaven was conversant as a man? Blessed are they, who, called to these occupations, shall inherit such a recompence: fortunate are those who are led to such a conflict, that they may partake of such rewards.”

[Sidenote: [A.D. 1095.] EFFECT OF URBAN’S SPEECH.]

I have adhered to the tenor of this address, retaining some few things unaltered, on account of the truth of the remarks, but omitting many. The bulk of the auditors were extremely excited, and attested their sentiments by a shout; pleased with the speech, and inclined to the pilgrimage. And immediately, in presence of the council, some of the nobility, falling down at the knees of the pope, consecrated themselves and their property to the service of God. Among these was Aimar, the very powerful bishop of Puy, who afterwards ruled the army by his prudence, and augmented it through his eloquence. In the month of November, then, in which this council was held, each departed to his home: and the report of this good resolution soon becoming general, it gently wafted a cheering gale over the minds of the Christians: which being universally diffused, there was no nation so remote, no people so retired, as not to contribute its portion. This ardent love not only inspired the continental provinces, but even all who had heard the name of Christ, whether in the most distant islands, or savage countries. The Welshman left his hunting; the Scot his fellowship with lice;[379] the Dane his drinking party; the Norwegian his raw fish. Lands were deserted of their husbandmen; houses of their inhabitants; even whole cities migrated. There was no regard to relationship; affection to their country was held in little esteem; God alone was placed before their eyes. Whatever was stored in granaries, or hoarded in chambers, to answer the hopes of the avaricious husbandman, or the covetousness of the miser, all, all was deserted; they hungered and thirsted after Jerusalem alone. Joy attended such as proceeded; while grief oppressed those who remained. But why do I say remained? You might see the husband departing with his wife, indeed, with all his family; you would smile to see the whole household laden on a carriage, about to proceed on their journey.[380] The road was too narrow for the passengers, the path too confined for the travellers, so thickly were they thronged with endless multitudes. The number surpassed all human imagination, though the itinerants were estimated at six millions.[381] Doubtless, never did so many nations unite in one opinion; never did so immense a population subject their unruly passions to one, and almost to no, direction. For the strangest wonder to behold was, that such a countless multitude marched gradually through various Christian countries without plundering, though there was none to restrain them. Mutual regard blazed forth in all; so that if any one found in his possession what he knew did not belong to him, he exposed it everywhere for several days to be owned; and the desire of the finder was suspended, till perchance the wants of the loser might be repaired.[382]

The long-looked for month of March was now at hand, when, the hoary garb of winter being laid aside, the world, clad in vernal bloom, invited the pilgrims to the confines of the east; nor, such was the ardour of their minds, did they seek delay. Godfrey, duke of Lorraine, proceeded by way of Hungary: second to none in military virtue, and, descended from the ancient lineage of Charles the Great, he inherited much of Charles both in blood and in mind. He was followed by the Frisons, Lorrainers, Saxons, and all the people who dwell between the Rhine and the Garonne.[383] Raimund, earl of St. Giles, and Aimar, bishop of Puy, nobly matched in valour, and alike noted for spirit against the enemy and piety to God, took the route of Dalmatia. Under their standard marched the Goths and Gascons, and all the people scattered throughout the Pyrenees and the Alps. Before them, by a shorter route, went Boamund, an Apulian by residence, but a Norman by descent. For embarking at Brindisi, and landing at Durazzo, he marched to Constantinople by roads with which he was well acquainted. Under his command, Italy, and the whole adjacent province, from the Tuscan sea to the Adriatic, joined in the war. All these assembling at the same time at Constantinople, partook somewhat of mutual joy. Here, too, they found Hugh the Great, brother of Philip, king of France: for having inconsiderately, and with a few soldiers, entered the territories of the emperor, he was taken by his troops, and detained in free custody. But Alexius, emperor of Constantinople, alarmed at the arrival of these chiefs, willingly, but, as it were, induced by their entreaties, released him. Alexius was a man famed for his duplicity, and never attempted any thing of importance, unless by stratagem. He had taken off Guiscard, as I before related, by poison, and had corrupted his wife by gold; falsely promising by his emissaries to marry her. Again, too, he allowed William, earl of Poitou, to be led into an ambush of the Turks, and, after losing sixty thousand soldiers, to escape almost unattended; being incensed at his reply, when he refused homage to the Greek. In after time, he laid repeated snares for Boamund, who was marching against him to avenge the injuries of the crusaders; and when these failed he bereaved him of his brother Guido, and of almost all his army; making use of his usual arts either in poisoning the rivers, or their garments: but of this hereafter. Now, however, removing the army from the city, and mildly addressing the chiefs, his Grecian eloquence proved so powerful, that he obtained from them all homage, and an oath, that they would form no plot against him; and that if they could subdue the cities pertaining to his empire, they would restore them to him, thus purchasing another’s advantage at the expense of their own blood. The credit of maintaining his liberty appeared more estimable to Raimund alone; so that he neither did homage to him, nor took the oath. Collecting, then, all their forces, they made an attack on Nicea, a city of Bithynia: for they chose to assault this first, both as it was an obstacle to the crusaders, and as they were eager to revenge the death of those pilgrims who had recently been slain there. For one Walter, a distinguished soldier, but precipitate, (for you will scarcely see prudence and valour united in the same person, as one retards what the other advances,) incautiously roaming around the walls, had perished with a numerous party, which Peter the hermit had allured, by his preaching, from their country.

Now, too, in the month of September, Robert earl of Normandy, brother of king William whose name is prefixed to this book, earnestly desiring to enter on the expedition, had as his companions Robert of Flanders, and Stephen of Blois who had married his sister. They were earls of noble lineage and corresponding valour. Under their command were the English and Normans, the Western Franks and people of Flanders, and all the tribes which occupy the continental tract from the British Ocean to the Alps. Proceeding on their journey, at Lucca they found pope Urban, who being enraged at Guibert, as I have said, was, by the assistance of Matilda, carrying war into Italy and around the city of Rome. He had now so far succeeded that the Roman people, inclining to his party, were harassing that of Guibert, both by words and blows; nor did the one faction spare the other, either in the churches or in the streets, until Guibert, being weakest, left the see vacant for Urban, and fled to Germany.

[Sidenote: [A.D. 1097.] ANCIENT ROME.]

Of Rome, formerly the mistress of the globe, but which now, in comparison of its ancient state, appears a small town; and of the Romans, once “Sovereigns over all and the gowned nation,”[384] who are now the most fickle of men, bartering justice for gold, and dispensing with the canons for money; of this city and its inhabitants, I say, whatever I might attempt to write, has been anticipated by the verses of Hildebert, first, bishop of Mans, and afterwards archbishop of Tours.[385] Which I insert, not to assume the honour acquired by another man’s labour, but rather as a proof of a liberal mind, while not envying his fame, I give testimony to his charming poetry.

Rome, still thy ruins grand beyond compare,
Thy former greatness mournfully declare,
Though time thy stately palaces around
Hath strewed, and cast thy temples to the ground.
Fall’n is the power, the power Araxes dire
Regrets now gone, and dreaded when entire;
Which arms and laws, and ev’n the gods on high
Bade o’er the world assume the mastery;
Which guilty Cæsar rather had enjoyed
Alone, than e’er a fostering hand employed.
Which gave to foes, to vice, to friends its care,
Subdued, restrained, or bade its kindness share
This growing power the holy fathers reared,
Where near the stream the fav’ring spot appeared
From either pole, materials, artists meet,
And rising walls their proper station greet;
Kings gave their treasures, fav’ring too was fate,
And arts and riches on the structure wait.
Fall’n is that city, whose proud fame to reach,
I merely say, “Rome was,” there fails my speech.
Still neither time’s decay, nor sword, nor fire,
Shall cause its beauty wholly to expire.
Human exertions raised that splendid Rome,
Which gods in vain shall strive to overcome.
Bid wealth, bid marble, and bid fate attend,
And watchful artists o’er the labour bend,
Still shall the matchless ruin art defy
The old to rival, or its loss supply.
Here gods themselves their sculptur’d forms admire,
And only to reflect those forms aspire;
Nature unable such like gods to form,
Left them to man’s creative genius warm;
Life breathes within them, and the suppliant falls,
Not to the God, but statues in the walls.
City thrice blessed! were tyrants but away,
Or shame compelled them justice to obey.

[Sidenote: [A.D. 1097.] DESCRIPTION OF ROME.]

Are not these sufficient to point out in such a city, both the dignity of its former advantages, and the majesty of its present ruin? But that nothing may be wanting to its honour, I will add the number of its gates, and the multitude of its sacred relics; and that no person may complain of his being deprived of any knowledge by the obscurity of the narrative, the description shall run in an easy and familiar style.[386]

The first is the Cornelian gate, which is now called the gate of St. Peter, and the Cornelian way. Near it is situated the church of St. Peter, in which his body lies, decked with gold and silver, and precious stones: and no one knows the number of the holy martyrs who rest in that church. On the same way is another church, in which lie the holy virgins Rufina and Secunda. In a third church, are Marius and Martha, and Audifax and Abacuc, their sons.

The second is the Flaminian gate, which is now called the gate of St. Valentine,[387] and the Flaminian way, and when it arrives at the Milvian bridge, it takes the name of the Ravennanian way, because it leads to Ravenna; and there, at the first stone without the gate, St. Valentine rests in his church.

The third is called the Porcinian[388] gate, and the way the same; but where it joins the Salarian, it loses its name, and there, nearly in the spot which is called Cucumeris, lie the martyrs, Festus, Johannes, Liberalis, Diogenes, Blastus, Lucina, and in one sepulchre, the Two Hundred and Sixty,[389] in another, the Thirty.

The fourth is the Salarian[390] gate and way; now called St. Silvester’s. Here, near the road, lie St. Hermes, and St. Vasella, and Prothus, and Jacinctus, Maxilian, Herculan, Crispus; and, in another place, hard by, rest the holy martyrs Pamphilus and Quirinus, seventy steps beneath the surface. Next is the church of St. Felicity, where she rests, and Silanus her son; and not far distant, Boniface the martyr. In another church, there are Crisantus, and Daria, and Saturninus, and Maurus, and Jason, and their mother Hilaria, and others innumerable. And in another church, St. Alexander, Vitalis, Martialis, sons of St. Felicity; and seven holy virgins, Saturnina, Hilarina, Duranda, Rogantina, Serotina, Paulina, Donata. Next the church of St. Silvester, where he lies under a marble tomb; and the martyrs, Celestinus, Philippus, and Felix; and there too, the Three Hundred and Sixty-five martyrs rest in one sepulchre; and near them lie Paulus and Crescentianus, Prisca and Semetrius, Praxides and Potentiana.

The fifth is called the Numentan[391] gate. There lies St. Nicomede, priest and martyr; the way too is called by the same name. Near the road are the church and body of St. Agnes; in another church, St. Ermerenciana, and the martyrs, Alexander, Felix, Papias; at the seventh stone on this road rests the holy pope Alexander, with Euentius and Theodolus.

The sixth is the Tiburtine[392] gate and way, which is now called St. Lawrence’s: near this way lies St. Lawrence in his church, and Habundius the martyr: and near this, in another church, rest these martyrs, Ciriaca, Romanus, Justinus, Crescentianus; and not far from hence the church of St. Hyppolitus, where he himself rests, and his family, eighteen in number; there too repose, St. Trifonia, the wife of Decius, and his daughter Cirilla, and her nurse Concordia. And in another part of this way is the church of Agapit the martyr.

The seventh is called, at present, the Greater gate,[393] formerly the Seracusan, and the way the Lavicanian, which leads to St. Helena. Near this are Peter, Marcellinus, Tyburtius, Geminus, Gorgonius, and the Forty Soldiers,[394] and others without number; and a little farther the Four Coronati.[395]

The eighth is the gate of St. John,[396] which by the ancients was called Assenarica. The ninth gate is called Metrosa;[397] and in front of both these runs the Latin way. The tenth is called the Latin gate,[398] and way. Near this, in one church, lie the martyrs, Gordianus and Epimachus, Sulpicius, Servilianus, Quintinus, Quartus, Sophia, Triphenus. Near this too, in another spot, Tertullinus, and not far distant, the church of St. Eugenia, in which she lies, and her mother Claudia, and pope Stephen, with nineteen of his clergy, and Nemesius the deacon.

The eleventh is called the Appian gate[399] and way. There lie St. Sebastian, and Quirinus, and originally the bodies of the apostles rested there. A little nearer Rome, are the martyrs, Januarius, Urbanus, Xenon, Quirinus, Agapetus, Felicissimus; and in another church, Tyburtius, Valerianus, Maximus. Not far distant is the church of the martyr Cecilia; and there are buried Stephanus, Sixtus, Zefferinus, Eusebius, Melchiades, Marcellus, Eutychianus, Dionysius, Antheros, Pontianus, pope Lucius, Optacius, Julianus, Calocerus, Parthenius, Tharsicius, Politanus, martyrs: there too is the church and body of St. Cornelius: and in another church, St. Sotheris: and not far off, rest the martyrs, Hippolytus, Adrianus, Eusebius, Maria, Martha, Paulina, Valeria, Marcellus, and near, pope Marcus in his church. Between the Appian and Ostiensian way, is the Ardeatine way, where are St. Marcus, and Marcellianus. And there lies pope Damasus in his church; and near him St. Petronilla, and Nereus, and Achilleus, and many more.

The twelfth gate and way is called the Ostiensian, but, at present, St. Paul’s,[400] because he lies near it in his church. There too is the martyr Timotheus: and near, in the church of St. Tecla, are the martyrs Felix, Audactus, and Nemesius. At the Three Fountains[401] is the head of the martyr St. Anastasius.

The thirteenth is called the Portuan[402] gate and way; near which in a church are the martyrs, Felix, Alexander, Abdon and Sennes, Symeon, Anastasius, Polion, Vincentius, Milex, Candida, and Innocentia.

The fourteenth is the Aurelian[403] gate and way, which now is called the gate of St. Pancras, because he lies near it in his church, and the other martyrs, Paulinus, Arthemius, St. Sapientia, with her three daughters, Faith, Hope, and Charity. In another church, Processus and Martinianus; and, in a third, two Felixes; in a fourth Calixtus, and Calepodius; in a fifth St. Basilides. At the twelfth milliary within the city, on Mount Celius, are the martyrs Johannes, and Paulus, in their dwelling, which was made a church after their martyrdom: and Crispin and Crispinianus, and St. Benedicta. On the same mount, is the church of St. Stephen, the first martyr; and there are buried the martyrs Primus, and Felicianus; on Mount Aventine St. Boniface; and on Mount Nola, St. Tatiana rests.

Such are the Roman sanctuaries; such the sacred pledges upon earth: and yet in the midst of this heavenly treasure, as it were, a people drunk with senseless fury, even at the very time the crusaders arrived, were disturbing everything with wild ambition, and, when unable to satisfy their lust of money, pouring out the blood of their fellow citizens over the very bodies of the saints.[404] The earls, confiding then in Urban’s benediction, having passed through Tuscany and Campania, came by Apulia to Calabria, and would have embarked immediately had not the seamen, on being consulted, forbade them, on account of the violence of the southerly winds. In consequence, the earls of Normandy and Blois passed the winter there; sojourning each among their friends, as convenient. The earl of Flanders, alone, ventured to sea, experiencing a prosperous issue to a rash attempt: wherefore part of this assembled multitude returned home through want; and part of them died from the unwholesomeness of the climate. The earls who remained however, when by the vernal sun’s return they saw the sea sufficiently calm for the expedition, committed themselves to the ocean, and, by Christ’s assistance, landed safely at two ports. Thence, through Thessaly, the metropolis of which is Thessalonica, and Thracia, they came to Constantinople. Many of the lower order perished on the march through disease and want; many lost their lives at the Devil’s Ford, as it is called from its rapidity; and more indeed would have perished, had not the advanced cavalry been stationed in the river, to break the violence of the current; by which means the lives of some were saved, and the rest passed over on horseback. The whole multitude then, to solace themselves for their past labours, indulged in rest for fifteen days, pitching their camp in the suburbs of the city; of which, as the opportunity has presented itself, I shall briefly speak.

[Sidenote: [A.D. 1097.] CONSTANTINOPLE--ITS ORIGIN.]

Constantinople was first called Byzantium: which name is still preserved by the imperial money called Bezants. St. Aldhelm, in his book On Virginity,[405] relates that it changed its appellation by divine suggestion: his words are as follow. As Constantine was sleeping in this city, he imagined that there stood before him an old woman, whose forehead was furrowed with age; but, that presently, clad in an imperial robe, she became transformed into a beautiful girl, and so fascinated his eyes, by the elegance of her youthful charms, that he could not refrain from kissing her: that Helena, his mother, being present, then said, “She shall be yours for ever; nor shall she die, till the end of time.” The solution of this dream, when he awoke, the emperor extorted from heaven, by fasting and almsgiving. And behold, within eight days, being cast again into a deep sleep, he thought he saw pope Silvester, who died some little time before, regarding his convert[406] with complacency, and saying, “You have acted with your customary prudence, in waiting for a solution, from God, of that enigma which was beyond the comprehension of man. The old woman you saw, is this city, worn down by age, whose time-struck walls, menacing approaching ruin, require a restorer. But you, renewing its walls, and its affluence, shall signalize it also with your name; and here shall the imperial progeny reign for ever. You shall not, however, lay the foundations at your own pleasure; but mounting the horse on which, when in the novitiate of your faith, you rode round the churches of the apostles at Rome, you shall give him the rein, and liberty to go whither he please: you shall have, too, in your hand, your royal spear,[407] whose point shall describe the circuit of the wall on the ground. You will be regulated, therefore, in what manner to dispose the foundations of the wall by the track of the spear on the earth.”